On not knowing

Yesterday I had a morning tea  with a dear friend of mine and we ended up talking about whether it is fair/right/proper/normal* not to know what you want to do in life when you are thirty-ish.

*Now that I think about it  I think what we were really asking ourselves was it is nurishing for me not to know  what I want to do with my life? Is it supportive for me? Does it move me forward? Does it sustain me?

 

If someone looked at the situation from the outside perhaps they might say that  we are both doing things we enjoy doing and we are hopefully good at, we are both working (although perhaps we are not working the regular number of hours a week), we are more less financially independent (although the situation is far from perfect) and yet there is something missing. The general sense of direction. Setting goals. Saying "this is it".

But then as I shared with my friend, there are things we do know. We have had some experiences and we know some of the things we don't want to do. We do know the things we do want to experience and do. We do have some goals. We know what makes us passionate. We know some of things we do well.

So what don't we know? I wonder if we both know what our mission statement is. What we were born here to give to the world. 

And I don't know what is the thing which is the most important thing for me right now.

I don't know if deep down I am okay with giving myself time not to know (because I worry other people are not okay with that). I don't know if I am consciously giving myself this time to find out.

I don't know if I am okay with not being able to define myself with the job I do.

I know some of the things I want to do or achieve, but deep down I don't know if I want them because  there is always that little voice telling me are you sure they are worth it? Are you worthy?

Here comes the sun...

I experienced a sweet moment with the sun  today as I was coming home from my coaching session.

I left that coaching sessions full of emotions. I don't know what I was feeling exactly. I felt I had dug deep, to my emotions and beliefs, I felt more alive and alert.  But there was no exact conclusion. I felt a mixture of fear and incertitude about finding my path. And then there was that part of me filled with quiet resignation, that I had know this session would not be easy.

The sun was trying to uplift me, I could feel it. It was time for it to leave, to settle down for the night, and yet it spent a moment with me, accompanied me on some of the way.

,,Don't worry" it seemed to smile" Just be with what is. It is all beautiful. Just be with what you experienced there, what you learned. Even if you cannot make the decision right now. "

It seemed strange to me to let myself feel happiness in a moment, when I was no closer to solutions.  Yet, sun's gentleness swept over me. It was so bright, so intense, that last moment  before it  settled for the night. And shone just for me.

The Revolutionary Road-That's where it all started

I wrote this post back in 2009... But I actually came up with it already in 2008. That's when I saw the film that shook me up. That was the year when I started dreaming of creating a blog, of coming back to/starting writing. I decided to keep this post in my attempt once again to bring this blog to life. How many times can we fall down and start up again? As long as it takes I guess. And this post talks about what I wanted this blog originally to be about-asking my burning, provoking, inspiring and touching questions. About the things I care about. 

Don’t we all have our “Paris” like April in "Revolutionary Road":  a place, a time, a situation or condition if only it happened we’d be happy, fulfilled? This little illusion that sparkles in the darkness of the dread of the everyday existence. Of course as we all know it turns out that when we find ourselves in Paris it is not as we had thought it would be and it might turn as a total disaster. But there is that little voice inside which cannot be ushered no matter what. I’ve had mine too.

There is a certain temptation to read the film as what the costs are of not being able to find the extraordinary in the ordinary, about missing what is close. After all April in her absolute quest for Paris was missing on a lot of things. The baby she carries, a fruit of that passionate moment on the kitchen counter, does not remind her that she is capable of being happy with her husband, even if those moments where so brief and fragile. She seems not to notice that she has made a difference in somebody’s life, someone who is not a part of that little suburban theater she dreads. It is as if she was wearing blinds on her eyes and could not turn around to see that even in the golden cage as she called it there could be a chance for discovery.

 But then what if she did want to go to Paris? Was it wrong of her to hope for it? Just because it was naive, unrealistic and probably would not change much? Is it wrong for April to trust her instinct, her institution?

Frank and April keep talking about compromise. Mature, stable loving couples, or maybe all relationships, are about reaching a compromise, aren’t they?. A compromise which is about giving up something and get something in return. A compromise means peace, doesn’t it? But what kind of compromise do April and Frank have? At all times there is one person who gives in more than the other. Especially at the end it seems that April clenches her teeth, at that terrible breakfast which hides so much violence and pain under her terrible perfect smile, that even Frank senses something is wrong. April was the one who made her first move out to change anything and now ironically she ends up with no bright perspectives.

Staying at home, throwing yourself out there, compromising... none of these seem to work in the film. The film doesn't give easy answers. Only questions. Which burn and sting.